


Peter and the Kid

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Crack, M/M, Pack is all alive, Steter Week 2.0
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 01:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4244901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack pisses off a witch so she turns Stiles into a goat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peter and the Kid

“I don’t know why you think I need to leave. I haven’t done anything, not really.” The witch tosses her red hair over her shoulder and looks at the group in front of her.  “You can’t say you’ll miss that man; you know it was only a matter of time before he hurt a child.”

“Yeah, and that’s why the police were watching him,” Stiles tells her, flailing like he’s back in high school. “Now they’re going to wonder what happened to him because people don’t just disappear.”

“Well they should,” she sniffs, raising an eyebrow at the group. “You shouldn’t be yelling at me, child, I did you a favor.”

“I think it might be a good idea if you leave,” Scott says, smiling at the witch from a respectful distance. “You got what you came for and I think you should move on before you attract too much attention.”

Stiles makes a shooing motion with his hands while Peter rolls his eyes. “Really, lady, listen to the alpha here and skidaddle. Go on now, scoot.”

“ _You_ are a tiring child,” the witch says, staring at Stiles. “Tiring and rude. And human,” she says, looking at him carefully. “Why do they bother keeping a human in a wolf pack?”

“Oh, you so need to get out of here, lady,” Stiles says, and his eye starts twitching as he steps towards her. “I am so much more than a human and…”

She sneers and says, “You’re an annoying little child. Just a kid. I’d be surprised if they don’t eat you before you’re an adult.”

“Okay,” Derek says, reaching to pull Stiles back. “I think we’re getting a little out of hand here and maybe…”

The witch smiles and says, “Have fun with your herd.” And then with a wave of her hand, she’s gone.

The three wolves turn in time to see Stiles vanish, leaving just a puddle of clothes on the forest floor.

“Oh my god,” Scott exclaims, falling on his knees in front of the pile of clothes, which suddenly start twitching.

“BLAHHH!” comes from the pile of clothes and suddenly a small head pokes through, followed by a squirmy little body. A little body of a tiny baby goat, no bigger than a toy poodle. He’s black and white and if it weren’t for the fact that he’s not Stiles, he’s a goat, he’d be pretty darned adorable.

“BLAHH! Blahh!” Stiles cries and runs in a circle, apparently trying to look at his new form.

Peter bends down and picks him up and gently turns the squirming goat so he’s looking at him. “Stiles, you need to calm down, okay? Calm down. I’m going to put you down now, so stay calm, you’ll be fine,” he says, setting Stiles gently on the ground. “Now look at me, okay? If you can understand me, tap your foot…hoof on the ground once.”

Stiles looks at the ground for a second and then runs in a circle, bleating loudly. He stops and looks up, looking confused. Or as confused as a baby goat can look.

Peter sighs and picks him back up, securing his legs to keep from getting kicked. “Okay, that might not work. This time let’s try nodding. Can you nod?”

After a second, Stiles nods and cries, “Maaaa!”

“Okay, that’s good. Are you in any pain? Shake your head for No.”

Stiles shakes his head back and forth and yells, “Blahhhh!”

“So what do we do? We need to track down the witch, right?” Scott asks, looking at Stiles who runs back and forth, head butting his pile of clothes, Derek’s shins and a tree.

“What did she say? She said something about eating him and… did she say anything else, how long will this last?” Derek asks. He looks down at Stiles and backs away when Stiles runs into his shin again.

“I have no idea,” Peter says, looking at Stiles as he runs around the clearing. “Witches tend to hang around to see what happens with their curses. I think we should have at least a couple of you search for her.”

“Yeah, makes sense. What’re you going to do?” Scott asks, kneeling on the ground, scratching Stiles on his head between the tiny buds of his horns.

Peter shrugs and looks between Scott and Derek. “Take him home, I guess. I think this would be one of those things he’d prefer that his father not know about. I know I don’t want to explain it to him.”

“Why should you take him home? That doesn’t sounds safe to me. Derek, what do you think?” Scott steps towards Peter, eyes flashing red.

“I think your mother doesn’t need a goat in her house and we’re probably going to be out looking for the witch,” Derek answers, watching as Stiles moves between the three of them, butting his head against their legs and then against nearby trees. They all stop and watch as he pulls off a small twig and eats it.

Scott gives Peter another look, best described as the stink eye. “Is he safe with Peter? I mean look at Stiles! He’s tiny and pretty vulnerable now -- he can’t defend himself at all.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what,” Peter says, sighing loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s been at least this vulnerable when he’s been sleeping in my bed after we’ve fucked and I haven’t killed him yet.”

“BLAAAA! BLAAAA!” Stiles screams and runs off, diving under a shrub.

“Stiles come back,” Peter calls after him. “I’ve told him that it’s hard to keep a secret from a pack, I’m not sure why he wanted to try,” he says, shrugging at the two other wolves.

“So he’s supposed to be safe with you?” Scott asks again. “When he runs away from you?”

Peter kneels down and scoops Stiles up in his arm, letting him burrow his wet, pink nose into Peter’s neck. “He thought you’d judge his choices and he doesn’t like being judged. Right now, he may be a goat, but he’s a sensitive goat.”

“Maaa?” Stiles asks, pulling his head back to look at Peter.

“I expect assistance with errands, and for you to check in and keep us updated on your hunt for the witch,” Peter says and putting Stiles’ front legs over his shoulder, he turns and walks off.

 

“Let us in, let us in!” Erica shouts while pounding on the door a few hours later.

“Could you try to keep it down, this is a home, not a barn… well wait a minute,” Peter says, blocking the door to keep her and Boyd out. “Did you bring the supplies I asked for?”

They both hold up bags, Erica trying to look around him into the apartment. “Yes, now let us in, we wanna see the little cutie!”

“Maaaa?” Stiles asks, running towards the front door. He skids to a stop, head butting Boyd in the leg.

“Oh my god, he’s adorable!” Erica falls on her knees and scoots towards him. She settles cross legged on the floor, pulling Stiles into her lap. “He’s so cute, Peter, he’s so so cute!”

Stiles is quiet, as he pushes his head between her breasts and chews gently on the neck of her sweater.

“That’s just freaky,” Boyd says, shaking his head as he looks at the pair sitting on the floor. “Goats have weird eyes, they freak me out.”

Peter gathers the bags and unpacks them on the couch. “Right now, I think I’m somewhere between the two of you. Thank you for bringing this stuff, and so quickly, too. I’m a little afraid of leaving him here alone. He’s already eaten a shoe.”

“Sure, no problem,” Erica says, nuzzling Stiles’ head while he shuts his eyes, relaxed on her lap. “At least living out in the sticks like we do, it wasn’t too hard to find a feed store.”

“Yeah, we got your list and asked them what we needed for a baby goat and they gave us the goat chow and there’s a half-bundle of alfalfa hay in my car, which is something I never thought I’d say.” Boyd pulls more items out of the bag. “Oh, I got you the cat litter box and litter, although the clerk at the store didn’t seem really optimistic about it.”

Stiles lifts his head and looks at Peter, wrinkling his nose. “Blaaa?”

“Sorry, but until you can stand and use the toilet, this will have to do. Believe me, I’m not looking forward to this either. I’ll put it in my bathroom,” Peter tells him and walks down the hall. After a minute, Stiles gets up from Erica’s lap and follows after him, head lowered.

“That’s just wrong,” Boyd says, sitting on the floor next to his girlfriend. “I hope Scott and Derek find that witch. Stiles is strange enough normally.”

“I think he’s sweet either way,” Erica declares and when he runs back into the living room, she throws open her arms and he climbs back in her lap, hiding his face in her chest.

“So how long do you keep him?” Boyd asks, watching as Stiles sticks his face down Erica’s shirt. “Assuming he doesn’t have an unfortunate accident.”

“Blaaah?” Stiles asks, lifting his head up and staring at Boyd. He doesn’t really help his case, as he has the ribbon that decorated Erica’s bra in his mouth.

Erica cuddles him and kisses him on the nose. “Oh, leave him alone, he can’t help himself. And he’s adorable!”

“Meh,” Stiles says and nods, pushing his head towards Erica for more kisses.

 

“Any news?” Peter asks the next day, letting Derek into his apartment.

Stiles runs in from the kitchen, jumping onto the couch and then the coffee table before he runs into Derek’s leg. “Please tell us you’ve found the witch.”

Derek scowls and backs away from Stiles. “Nothing so far. Her scent’s in the preserve, but we haven’t seen her. We’ll keep looking; Isaac and Scott are going out tonight. How are you doing?”

“Blaah! Blaah!” Stiles yells and butts Derek in the leg.

“He wants you to sit down. And then you have to pick him up. I think he dislikes looking up a people,” Peter says, sitting on his couch. He holds up a potted plant that was previously healthy, saying, “I hope you find her soon, I know he’s responsible for most of the plants here, but he’s also taken to eating them all.”

“In a day? He’s been here one day only?” Derek asks as Stiles jumps on the couch next to him and starts to nudge his nose into Derek’s neck. “He might be more destructive now than when he’s human.”

Stiles takes a mouthful of Derek’s hair and mutters, “Bleh.”

“He certainly has a lot of energy; I don’t know how ADHD affects goats, but I’m thinking Adderall isn’t good for him right now,” Peter says, with a sigh. “I’m planning on taking him out to the preserve and letting him run around. Maybe that’ll tire him out and he’ll be able to sleep better.”

Derek pulls Stiles’ off his head and sets him on the floor. A second later, he’s jumped back on the couch and then he jumps over Derek to sit with Peter.

“He kept you up last night?” Derek asks, watching Stiles chew on Peter’s fingers.

Peter pulls his fingers out of Stiles’ mouth so he can scratch him on the head. “Yes. He’s normally a restless sleeper, but he doesn’t normally kick me in the stomach.”

Derek makes a face that’s a mix of skeptical and judgmental. “You let him sleep with you? In your bed?”

“Yes, Derek, I let our packmate, who has been through a very traumatic event, sleep with me.”  Stiles snorts quietly and sprawls on Peter’s lap, letting the older man pet his stomach as he stares as Derek, challenge in his eyes.

“Well, yeah, I guess, that makes sense,” Derek says, with a small shrug. “It just seems…”

“Strange, I know. The whole thing is strange, isn’t it? Then again, I’ve been sleeping with him for a couple of weeks now in his human form, so…”

Peter waits when Stiles jumps off him, running down the hallway yelling, “Blaah!!”

“I agree with him. And I don’t need to know about that, Peter. I’m still going to need to look at both of you when he’s back to being a human.” Derek looks at Peter thoughtfully, crossing his arms and cocking his head. “Probably a stupid idea, but have you thought about…” he pauses and blushes faintly before he continues. “Kissing him and seeing if it changes him back? I know it’s stupid, but witches think shit like that’s funny and…”

Peter rolls his eyes, leaning back with a sigh. “I’m not exactly his true love, we’re one step past fuck buddies.” He waits while Stiles runs back into the room, jumping off the coffee table and Derek’s lap into his. “And yes, I’m slightly embarrassed to say, I did try it.”

“Bleh,” Stiles says and chews on Peter’s belt.

Day three is spent mainly in the preserve, with Peter trying to tire the little goat out. He does sleep, but it’s more naps than anything else. Peter watches to be sure he doesn’t eat anything that can hurt him. “He’s apparently a nervous eater,” Peter tells Lydia as she watches him stand on his hind legs to chew on a flower growing on a short shrub.

“You know he needs about 16 percent protein in his diet,” she says, as she watch Stiles move from plant to plant, taking bites of everything.

Peter raises an eyebrow and says, “I’ve been reading as well. I have alfalfa hay and oats at home for him. He’s getting a good diet, not that he’ll need it long. We’ll turn him back soon.”

“Good,” she answers and squats on the ground, holding out a hand towards the little goat. He comes forward and butts his head into her hand so she can scratch along his back. “He’s my best friend and I miss him.”

“I do, too,” Peter says quietly.

 

“Dammit, Stiles, I know this is frustrating, but would you stop knocking everything over?” Peter snaps, picking his phone up from the floor. 

“Bleeeeh!” Stiles yells as he jumps from the kitchen counter to the table to the chair and to the floor.

“Scott and Isaac and looking for the witch again today, they’re downtown. Erica and Boyd are back in the preserve.” He stops and scoops Stiles up, but the little goat is wiggling so much, he puts him down on the couch next to him. “Do you want to go out and run around again?”

“Meh,” Stiles says quietly, shaking his head.  

“Do you want to watch a movie? Or go for a ride?”

Stiles snorts and tucks his front feet under his chest, resting his head on Peter’s thigh. “Beh,” he bleats, and sighs loudly.

“I know, Stiles.” Peter sits for a minute, keeping a hand on Stiles’ back. “Argent is out looking as well. Derek told him what’s going on.”

“Bleeh?” Stiles asks, looking up at Peter.

Peter shrugs and says, “He thought the hunter might help; they’re not fond of witches either.”

“Meh,” Stiles says, putting his head back down, shutting his eyes.

“Have you tried to turn back into a human? Tried to shift?” Peter asks, going back to running his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

Stiles stands on the couch and looks at Peter, cocking his head. “Bleeh?”

“I don’t know, maybe you can shift yourself back? Derek and I can shift from a wolf to a human. Not that you’re a were-goat.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Never mind, if you could, I’m sure you would have.”

Stiles jumps off the couch and runs into the kitchen and then back to Peter, taking only one detour to jump on the coffee table. “Beeeh!”

“Want to try it?” Peter asks, and gently guides him away from the furniture, into an empty space in the dining room. “Okay, think about your human form and what you should look like.”

Stiles shuts his eyes and ducks his head. Peter can hear his heart beat, strong and steady, and just a little fast.

“Take a couple of breaths, and think about being human. Concentrate and think of your body changing, think of changing back to being the lovely boy you are.”

Peter watches as Stiles breathes deeply, seeming to concentrate like Peter told him. He watches as Stiles takes another breath and shakes a little and then… he pees on the floor.

“Braaaaah!” he scream and runs out of the room towards the bedrooms.

 

“Stiles?” Peter comes into his room and sits on the floor next to bed, back against the bed night stand. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you. Please come out so I can apologize.”

Stiles wiggles his way out from under the bed and curls up in Peter’s lap. He looks up at him and Peter would swear his lip quivers when he says, “Meh.”

“It’s okay, you’ll be back to being you soon,” Peter says, kissing his forehead.

 

The next day finds Peter in the preserve, back in the farthest area from the city, where they originally tracked the witch. There’s still the faint scent of power and magic, similar to the scent around Stiles when he’s doing spells.

“Witch? Ma’am?” Peter calls as he walks around, half shifted and feeling stupid, hoping his supernatural shape will draw her in. “Come on, lady, I just want to talk with you! No harm, no threats.”

There’s an overly dramatic puff of smoke and the witch is standing in front of Peter, her hair and long, black dress fluttering in the wind. “Wolf. You called me?”

“We’ve been looking for you for days, Ma’am,” he says. He tries to keep a respectful tone, remembering why he’s here. And how quickly she vanishes when she wants to.

She sniffs and says, “I know. Your friends are loud, annoying and demanding. I hope that you’re better behaved.”

Peter nods, shoving his hands in his pockets so she won’t see his claws. “I apologize for my friends; we’re all merely trying to help our other friend, Stiles.  You’ll remember him, the young man you so cleverly turned into a goat?”

“Oh, him! He was quite impertinent. How’s he getting along?” she asks, smirking.

“It’s a little tiring, to be honest. He can’t do very much for himself and he misses his father. He’s one of the humans in our pack and we all miss him. While it was a terrific spell and quite appropriate, I’m hoping you’d be willing to turn him back.” Peter hopes it’s the right amount of praise and pleading. Witches can be quite touchy and clearly this one is offended easier than most.

“He’s your pack human?” She smiles at him and raises an eyebrow. “And he’s _your_ human, too, isn’t he?”

Peter shrugs and glances away, looking at a bird watching their conversation. “Perhaps. We’re friends. Maybe we’ll be more.”

The witch studies him, one finger rubbing her cheek while she thinks about her offer. “I could turn him back, that would be easy.”

“Thank you very much,” Peter replies quickly. “That would be very generous of you. I promise you won’t see him again.”

“Not so fast, Wolf, you know that,” she says, shaking her head. “Werewolves are always handy for restocking the larder. I require…some of your blood and some hair. Not much of either, but that’s my requirement.”

Peter nods and steps forward, holding out an arm. “That’s fine. Do you have a knife or would you like me to…” he gestures to his arm with one clawed finger.

“Allow me, please, there’s ways this must be done,” the witch answers, reaching into a hidden pocket. She pulls out a small, silver knife and a glass bottle the size of her thumb. “Please?” she asks and before Peter can answer, she cuts him by the elbow, quickly filling the bottle. By the time she has it closed and put away, the cut on his arm’s already healed.

“And hair?” he says, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing where he was cut. “Do you want to pull some out?”

“Yes, please. You should shift, I need it from your werewolf form. From your ear, please,” she tells him, smiling as she pulls out another small bottle.

He grimaces, but shifts to his beta form and turns to her. “Go ahead,” he says, lisping slightly from the fangs crowding his mouth.

She steps forward and grabs some of the hair between two fingers, tugging hard. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, it was fine, thank you.” Peter mumbles, rubbing his ear where she pulled the hair, watching as that bottle goes into another pocket. “And now you’ll remove the spell?”

“He’ll be fine in the morning,” she says, casually. “If you’d been patient, you’d have found that it would wear off in just seven days. So only another, what? One or two days and he’d have been your annoying human again anyway.” She shrugs, giving him a smug smile. “But I do appreciate the blood, I know I can do something special with that. There’s a lot of magic in a shifter’s blood.”

Peter knows his eyes flash, but otherwise he forces himself to stay calm. There’s no point in annoying her and having her change the spell or having her turn him into something as well. “And the hair? You can use that?”

“Possibly,” she shrugs, looking at a pendant hanging from a gold chain around her neck. “Perhaps I can sell it. Mainly I just wanted to see what lengths you’d go to. I was going to ask for a claw, but I thought you might object.” She steps back from Peter and nods, “Thank you, Wolf, I hope you found our meeting educational and profitable. As I said, your boy will be himself in the morning. For better or worse.”

And in another dramatic puff of smoke, she’s gone.

 

Peter lets the pack know by text as he’s driving home. Unfortunately, the pack decides to celebrate by showing up at his apartment. He’s able to tell Stiles before everyone shows up, explaining that he met with the witch and she assured him that Stiles would be back to being Stiles in the morning.

“So your pack wants to come over and see you, is that okay with you?” Peter asks as soon as Stiles stops running through the house.

The goat nods vigorously and calls, “Bleeh! Bleeh!”

“It’ll be nice having you back to normal. You talk as much now as before, but at least before I could understand you.”

Stiles crowds into Peter’s lap and pushes his face into Peter’s neck, sighing wetly, and giving Peter’s neck gentle nuzzles. Peter shuts his eyes for a moment, surprisingly content listening to the quiet heartbeat against his chest. They just need to get through tonight.

The evening is enjoyable, everyone relaxed now that they know Stiles will be back to himself shortly.

“So seriously, Peter, how’d you do it?” Scott asks, shoving pizza in his mouth. “We couldn’t even find her.”

“Begging, basically. And I apologized to her and explained that we’d like him back.” Peter shrugs and sips his drink, one that’s doctored so werewolves will feel the alcohol. “Really she just wanted some respect.”

Stiles looks up from his slice of pizza and mutters, “Meh.”

“There’s something not quite truthful there,” Derek says, gesturing to Peter with his drink. “Not sure what, but there’s some bullshit there.”

“She’s gone though? Really, truly gone?” Kira asks, feeding mushrooms from her pizza to Stiles.

Peter nods. “I believe so. I think she got what she came for and now she’s moved on.”

“Good,” Isaac says, pushing Stiles towards Lydia. “Glad she’ll be gone and glad he won’t be a goat. He keeps trying to eat my scarf.”

Lydia smiles, scratching Stiles under the chin, making him shut his eyes and sigh in pleasure. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a goat thing, Isaac.”

“I’ll also be glad when the goat thing is done,” Boyd says, shaking his head. “It’s creeping me out.”

Stiles just looks at him and smiles.

 

Peter wakes the next morning, thinking there’s something that’s supposed to happen today. He’s not immediately sure what, just that there’s something floating around the edge of his brain. He pulls Stiles closer to him, nuzzling into his neck, waiting to wake up enough to remember.

“Hmm, morning, Peter,” Stiles mutters, pushing back against him. “Hey!” he says, sitting up, pulling out of Peter’s grasp, leaving his bed partner whining. “Hey, wake up, I’m back! I’m me, no more goat!”

“Oh yeah, that,” Peter says, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Look at you, eyes back to normal and you’re not kicking me in the stomach. Welcome back.”

“Thanks. I know you did something, I know spells like this and… whatever you did, whatever you gave up, thank you.”

Peter shrugs and says, “It wasn’t anything important. Not as important as getting you back.”

Stiles smiles and does a quick self-inventory, including looking under the covers. “Yeah. I’m me again, apparently no residual effects. Except I think I smell funny. Do I smell funny?”

Peter leans over and loudly sniffs along Stiles’ back, then pushes him back into the mattress. He rolls on top of him, sniffing into his hair, his neck, his armpits and then kisses him gently. “Yes, you still smell kind of goaty. Little like an animal, and a little like all the hay you were eating. Not bad actually,” he says, kissing down his neck.

“You’re a freak,” Stiles states, kissing him back. “And you have morning breath, which means I have morning breath and I hate having morning breath. I’m going to jump into the shower and brush my teeth.” He rolls Peter off him, getting up and stretching before he moves towards the bathroom. “You want to join me?”

Peter shrugs and asks, “Are you kidding me?”

“Not funny!” Stiles yells and Peter jumps over the litter box that slides down the hall.

He smiles and whispers, “I am glad you’re back.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So maybe I was thinking of Rowena when writing the witch. 
> 
> And thanks to the Steter Chatzy for help with noises that goats might make - although it's hard to translate them into writing.


End file.
